If you had a crazy mother, you will spend your whole life trying to transcend it. If you are a crazy mother, no degree of remorse will ease your heavy heart.

My mom was crazy. Even into her forties, my sister was ashamed to let anyone find out. Whenever I meet someone with a crazy mom, I feel an instant kinship, even if their childhood experience was nothing like mine. The burden of a crazy mom sets you apart. You missed out on something that you can barely imagine. But you struggle to forgive her.

I know people who were locked in closets, hit, threatened, screamed at, abandoned, and I know a woman whose mom killed herself on Mother’s Day, knowing her three daughters would find her with a plastic bag over her head.

If your mom was crazy, none of this will shock you. I’m more shocked when an adult friend tells me about a nice day she just had, shopping with her mom. It seems almost otherworldly. How do you get a normal mom, a mom who isn’t either enraged or crying?!?

While PAP Smear takes a break, I’m embarking on a Crazy Mothers Club. We might have a logo, but probably not. Maybe just a secret handshake.

Was (or is) your mom crazy? Here is a place you can talk about it. Rant, complain, whine, and compare notes. Are you a crazy mom? You can confess, seek counsel, or just bond with other crazy moms. No one gets to be mean to anybody else, i.e., bad vibes will not be tolerated.

Since I fit both categories, I get to be CEO. Annemarie will do the PR and heavy lifting. All other positions are open.

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109 Responses to “The Crazy Mothers Club”

Count me in!
I’ve got a Nutter Mum. Battered the shit out of me for years.
Which didn’t help during what I call ‘The Undiagnosed Years’ (before they decided I had Asperger’s).
Cut her out of my life 6 years ago. Best decision ever!

Yes I often feel that I “will spend my whole life trying to transcend it” ! Like your sister, I spent years trying to hide my mother’s weirdness from others, and perhaps from myself in the same go. Now at nearly 30, I’m only just starting to come out of this attitude and get on with my own life….. at last !

I’m also worried about being a weird mom myself (no kids yet, but planning on it, at some point).

I often think I’m a weird girlfriend to my partner as well, though I’m not sure that can all be blamed on my mother.

I’ve been through a drastic period of cuting her from my life. We are now in good terms, though that means I very little of her, on family occasions only which means never one to one. That seems to work for me !

My both parents were crazy and I spent a lot of time, as a child, wishing they would die. At eighteen, I more or less cut them out but have made some efforts to establish some kind of relationships with them at a later age.

Living abroad gives a perfect excuse for not staying in touch too much and not getting too close. Last time I met my mother was in April last year. I managed to spend an hour with her, chitchatting, drinking coffee and not feeling too awkward about the situation. I haven’t had any contact with my father in five years but the last time I did was a pleasant experience. He’s a strange old man, and a rather funny one at that.

I’m a bastard, er, by birth, that is, not by nature, despite the majority opinion of this blog! My mother gave birth to me in London a few months before WWII broke out, a time when illegitimacy was severely frowned upon and for that and other reasons she had cut all ties to her family, so she was a woman alone. When the blitz began I was evacuated (along with tens of thousands of other children, to a family of strangers in the country whilst my mother remained working in London. Happily, the family I was with were superb and I remained with them until around 1946 when my mother, who had visited as often as she could, came to collect me. She need not have done so, the family I was with would have kept me as their own if she had allowed them. But she did, despite the financial strain that ensued, and which stayed with us for most of my childhood, and teh end to anything approaching a social life, let alone a love life. As I creep unwillingly towards death, she keeps entering my thoughts and I bitterly regret that I never expressed the gratitude I feel now, in retrospect, for the love and affection and care she bestowed on me at huge cost to herself and which, with the grasping insensitivity of youth, I took for granted.

I mention all this because it is my *personal* experience and it has, therefore, coloured my *personal* view of the relationship between mothers and children and I am in danger of projecting this *personal* experience outwards to encompass *all* mother/children relationships. That would be a mistake.

In a penultimate comment to that long, tedious thread below (sorry, my fault – well, actually, I’m not that sorry!) ‘Sister Wolf’ proposed a sort of ‘general theory of mother/son relationships’, and I see now that much of this stems from her own personal experience which she is projecting outwards. In addition, it has all over it the finger prints of that arch fraud – Freud! In the last 150 years there have been two grand, world-wide hoaxers whose unmitigated rubbish has caused utter misery to millions, that is, Sigmund Freud and Karl Marx. The fact that both of them were Jews and thus members of arguably the most intelligent race on earth is yet another example of the Intelligent Designer’s jokes! Also, of course, they were both intellectuals and thus stand as excellent reasons for the general derision I aim at anyone who kneels at the feet of such ninnies.

‘Sister Wolf’ writes of “the male’s inherent fear and loathing of Mommy”. Well, I’m a male and I have never felt anything other than the exact opposite of what she posits. I am certainly not alone in that and there is a sort of proof in the innumerable stories of soldiers wounded in battle instinctively crying out for their mothers. Even so, she asserts, wihtout a hint of doubt, that “All male endeavors not designed to acquire pussy are in fact a futile effort to get even with Mommy for being the boss when he was helpless. It is the male condition and cannot be transcended.” That is, if I may use a post-modernist word of doubtful integrity, a ‘construct’ built without foundation. It may be a description of *some* relationships, the human condition is such that it contains a myraid of possibilities, but to claim universality is not so much a step too far but a whole route march.

‘Sister Wolf’ ends with this, and I confess that when I read it, I giggled:
“When you can’t get even with Mommy or win the unconditional love to which you believe yourself entitled, you turn to other men for approval. Hence the drive for political power and while we’re at it, for bodybuilding. At this point, you are looking for Daddy or else trying to kill him in your Oedipal fury.”

This begs the following question: “Arnie, did you really lurve your Mother?”

Mr. Duff,
It is normal to have clarity when looking back on the past– 20/20 hindsight is the expression, I believe– but do you not see the inherent contradiction in saying this:

“the FAMILY I WAS WITH WERE SUPERB ….my mother…came to collect me. She NEED NOT HAVE DONE SO, the family I was with would have kept me as their own IF SHE HAD ALLOWED THEM….I bitterly regret that I never expressed the gratitude I feel now, IN RETROSPECT, for the love and affection and care she bestowed on me at huge cost to herself and which, with the grasping INSENSITIVITY of youth, I TOOK FOR GRANTED”

And then this:
‘Sister Wolf’ writes of “the male’s inherent fear and loathing of Mommy”. Well, I’m a male and I have NEVER FELT ANYTHING OTHER THAN THE EXACT OPPOSITE of what she posits.

???

(BTW, I think you should revisit Freud and Marx; the original sources rather than readings that ape their work.)

Sister Wolf, I’d high five you if I could, no really.
My mom is a crazy bitch, and it has effected my siblings in completely different ways. My oldest brother tends to be a compulsive liar and constantly tries to get me to believe he’s really really cool, no really.
My little brother likes guns, airplanes, and violence, of course he is in the air force and loves to talk about it. He has the most unfortunate case of social anxiety.
My sister can be described in two words: “Princess” and “Cunt” both capitalized, enough said.
I’ve found it most interesting to observe this, but have been shocked to realize (and also be told by someone on the “outside”) that I am the most normal child my mother has produced. ..and yeah, you can probably figure that I’m hilariously weird, introverted and angry.
It comforts me to read this; I’ve struggled with my mom’s crazy bitch-ness for a long, long while. When I was younger I figured I’d oust her once I were older, never talk to her because why the fuck would I or anyone else? Then I started to live like an “adult”, on my own and all that, and now I just feel sorry for her. She did the best job she knew how to do, but now it only angers me that she doesn’t see anything wrong with the fucked up job she did.
Its a tough one, I guess. I might never have kids because of her, but she’s my mom and the only one I have.
Actually, can someone who isn’t a Crazy Mom adopt me? I’m a good kid, really.

My mom’s not super crazy. Though she is a drinker. She would always forget conversations, and sometimes forget giving me permission to do things for which I would get fussed at later. But overall, she was pretty much like growing up with Martha Stewart (minus the creepy parts). Always cooking and decorating and shopping. My Dad’s mother though, she is certifiable, and he finally cut her out about 4 or 5 years ago. And he definitely had the “the male’s inherent fear and loathing of Mommy” thing going on. He was still trying to win her approval into his 60s, failing continuously, while her baby son gets all her affection and can do no wrong… in spite of the fact that he’s sitting in prison for murdering his wife.

fascinating stuff. if your mom tried her best and has some small ability to see her faults, well i guess you’re one of the lucky ones. my mother did try her best despite my father’s alcoholism and her disappointment with life in general (depression). my mother died at 56. she was a lovely woman, perhaps a tiny bit distant, but she did love us. my mother-in-law was controlling and egotistical. hence, my daughters had no grandparents. my reaction was to over-protect and become somewhat enmeshed. but hey they know i’m THERE and that i adore them. i know every way i’ve fucked up and it does keep me up at night.

Annemarie,
Sorry, no, I don’t see any contradiction in what I wrote. My evacuee family were wonderful and we remained friends for years after. In retrospect, I can see that there *might* have been a temptation on the part of my mother to quietly slip from the scene and ‘do her own thing’, as they say today, knowing that I was cared for. But she didn’t. At great personal and financial cost she took me back as soon as she could and looked after me with love and affection.

Now, I know that that is not the case for everyone but I can say with certainty that *all* of my close friends enjoyed an affectionate relationship with their mothers, so it is a mistake, I suggest, to think that there is some sort of natural law that all mother/son relationships are as described by our hostess.

Perhaps it is best if we place Messrs. Freud and Marx to one side. I simply rest on the obvious fact that all their prognostications have proved false.

David – By accusing me of projecting my childhood experience outward (meaning it invalidates my personal beliefs) you are attacking me and using my Crazy Mother to do so. You broke the rule, so you may not comment in this thread. Why you can’t follow a simple rule when you are so well-read, I have no idea! Please be gone until you can figure out what’s wrong with you. Don’t be too hasty to dismiss psychoanalysis.

Sleepy – Sorry to hear this. Sometimes you just have to divorce you mom. If she understood more about AS, I wonder if she could have learned to control herself? Probably not. Would you like to be a club official? xo

Sarah -It sound like you’re doing better than most in figuring out a way to deal with your mom in a positive way. I can relate to your story. Your awareness of your own childhood will help you with your own kids. No mom is perfect. But because you’e clearly not in denial, you will have compassion and sensitivity to your children’s needs. xo

Juri -Ah, it’s rough when both are crazy. Same here. It’s great how when enought time passes, you can see them from a detached perspective. My dad is now just a frail old guy who likes to tell jokes, instead of the monster he was in my early life. xo

atomic ovaries – wow. My sister is a compulsive liar! I figure it’s her coping mechanism, but it is hugely exasperating! Crazy moms do deserve our sympathy and compassion. I don’t think you’ll be one. xo

susie b – You turned out well, I have to say. Maybe you can go lock your mom out if she gets out of hand? xo

Honeypants – god, I remember that story. But look how you are the post-post modern Martha Stuart, kind of?! xo

jools – I’m so sorry for your loss. I can totally relate to the over-protection!!! If only it was my worst quality as a mom. But yes, knowing we’re always there for them is good, it should count for a lot. I sense you are a wonderful loving mom. xo

annemarie – Can you find an adoptive mom for atomic ovaries? And a position for sleepy?

Atomic Ovaries. I will be your mother. I can’t say that I’ll be a good one though, considering the fact that I am the spawn of a mad cunt.

I feel for you though, marooned with all those cunts and believing that the stork who dropped you there must have made a mistake. I felt the same way. My poor brother, in an attempt to transfer the frustration and anger endured during the chaos of our childhood, went and joined the cops– the cops! Say no more.

My mother battered both of us, but him more than me. He suffers from a very acute form of arthritis now. Arthritis is basically inflammation of the bones, a description I have always found haunting.

I was her favorite, which was a mixed blessing. I was privy to all sorts of…madness.

Here are a few of the questions that the child of a Crazy Mother will torture her/himself for years to come:

Sometimes she is nice to me and tells me she loves me, so when she tells me what an evil person I am, she must be telling the truth?
When will other people find out that I am evil?
How can I prevent other people from finding out how evil I am?
If my own mother doesn’t love me, does that mean I am unlovable?
Who will ever love me?
Will they love me once they find out I am evil?
It is evil to hate your own mother; therefore, I am evil.
But sometimes I SEE her, and when you really SEE a person in all their brokenness and softness, you have to love them. But how can I LOVE and HATE this person at the same time?

……If I hate her I am evil; therefore I must love her; but I hate her for being so mean!; If I hate her I am evil; therefore I must love her; but I hate her for being so mean!;If I hate her I am evil; therefore I must love her; but I hate her for being so mean…….

All of us daughters of Crazy Mothers in the end must become our Mother’s mother.

It’s the mothers who need mothers. Knowing that makes forgiving the bitches easier.

When I started thinking of my Mother as a seven year old I found it much easier to forgive all of the madness and violence and humiliation. Someone had to be the adult in our relationship and it was never going to be her.

atomic ovaries – You can see that you couldn’t do better than have annemarie for your adoptive mom. God bless you annemarie. xo

sleepy – You may not even need Tolstoy, given your deep understanding of existential matters. I once lived a few blocks away from RD Laing in Belsize Park! War and Peace is worth reading though, and it isn’t difficult, just loooooooong. xo

My mom was not crazy. A bit depressive, but all in all quite adequate. I do, however, tend to date men who had the Crazy Moms. I don’t know what this says about me (and I’m not sure I want to know). The thing that seemed to have kept them from utter despair was the presence of just one loving, sane adult woman in their lives – in one case a grandmother, in the other a loving neighbor.

This is my plea – if you know of a kid who has the Crazy Mom, try to be that rock for them. It doesn’t have to be all-consuming, but a steady, sane voice and an open door go a long way.

Suebob sent me. My mother is bipolar and in the midst of a horrendous manic episode RIGHT NOW. Well, actually right now means since the end of September. She spent most of October in a geriatric-psychiatric unit. She refused to take Zyprexa (which has worked in the past) and was on Geodon for most of the hospital visit. A week after getting out of the hospital, the “Great Geodon Experiment” (as I called it) ended and she went back to Zyprexa. Or more specifically, she was prescribed Zyprexa and has taken it sporadically since then.

She hangs up when I call. Today she called and accused me of stealing some family photos. There’s lots more on my blog…

I’ve blogged a lot about my mom’s current manic episode because I’m sick of the stigma of mental illness. Life’s too short. We need better prevention, treatment and research.

My mom lives a thousand miles away from me (literally) so I’m not in a position to stop by and check on her. I’m just trying to ride this one out without worrying about her safety 24/7. I have called her local police department and had them do a couple of welfare checks.

I only recently realized my mom was crazy. I concocted a very romanticized and kindly selective memory of her, since she died 15 years ago of breast cancer. But as time has gone on, I remember things more accurately.

She would throw things at me in anger, or sometimes just to get my attention. One distinct memory I have is being beaned in the back of the head by the small wooden bench I would stand on to brush my teeth in front of our too-tall sink. Another time, I walking down the mahogany stairs at our house and she threw a Radio Shack beach ball at me, which took my feet out from under me and resulted in a concussion and 8 stitches in the head. Then there was the time she took one of my favorite childhood toys – a treasured wooden marionette that I adored – and she broke apart in front of me, piece by piece, until she got down to the large leg pieces that couldn’t be snapped and she repeatedly hit me with them. I always used to read about how abused children would get the shit beat out of them, and later would get an apology and a reassurance that it would never occur again (even though it would), but that never happened to me. I just kept getting the shit beat out of me with no pretenses or false promises that another whooping wasn’t right around the corner. The funny thing about the beatings were that I didn’t get them when I deserved them, like when I had a messy room, broke curfew, was caught drinking, cut class, etc. I got beat for very unsubstantiated reasons that made sense only to her, and this caught me off guard at first but then taught me to never allow myself to be emotionally or mentally unprotected around her, or anyone. As Sister Wolf said, don’t be too hasty to dismiss psychoanalysis for guessing the gift that this childhood behavior has given me in later life.

Her last words to me, on her deathbed, were that I was a huge disappointment and that I never cared about her. Part of me wants to believe it was the drugs that made her say such things, but in my conscious thoughts, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. I’ve forgiven her and admittedly, sometimes I still pretend that romanticized memory I have of her is the real one.

Oh, Ann. I hear you loud and clear. My heart aches for you. Your mom was nuts and someone should have been around to protect you. Bi-polar, borderline, whatever her mental illness, it must have been a nightmare. It took me many years to stop focusing on my dad as the designated Monster. so i had the same sort of delayed recognition of what my mother was really like.

Her abuse was more verbal. But she did accuse me of ruining her entire life and always asked god why he cursed her with me.

I have forgiven, too. The relationship you can have after you crazy mom dies is much sweeter and more comforting. It’s still valid. It all takes place in your head, anyway.

Look at how despite everything Ann, you are so loving, and so beloved.

Let us light a candle for the souls of our tortured moms, the crazy fucking bitches.

[…] spa.Â To Suebob (I waved when we drove through Ventura!) who left a comment about a post entitled The Crazy Mothers Club over at Godammit I’m Mad. I’m now a member and have almost mastered the secret […]

I love the term refrigerator Mother; Mine is an Esky. Weirdly it didn’t make me “catch” autism, but I do have two autie kids. And every single day I rebel against the way she raised me and my sisters.

one story. At 16 I had a part time job to pay for MY SCHOOL TEXT BOOKS as mum complained I took all the “dear” subjects. (as in expensive) like Arts and History.
I was earning enough to disqualify for children’s allowance which is paid to the mother. She reported it; and then demanded I pay her myself out of my wages.

But get this. With one child, children’s allowance is about $50 per month, Two kids = $100, but for three kids it goes up as they reason it costs a lot more to raise 3 kids at home, so it was $175 for 3 of us.

I offered to pay the single child amount, She made me pay the differential.

I have so many of these passive aggressive “I wish you had never been born” stories, you would actually think me a fantacist.

I’m 53 years old and am still working through anger issues with both crazy mf-ing parents. My mother was spineless when it came to proctecting her children. When I was 10 years old, my father grabbed me and my two siblings and almost beat us to death. He tore most of my clothes off, pinned me to my bed and literally beat the piss out of me. My mother was in the kitchen having coffee and a cig while listening to her battered, bloodied children screaming for her to come help them. The day after, the bitch grounded me for wetting my bed! I’m glad they’re both dead.

I think my step-mom was ill equiped to be a “normal” nurturing parent as her own parents were very misguided individuals. I guess she did the best she could. She’s not exactly psycho but more along the lines of needing lots and lots of therapy. So, she’s a bit crazy, self-centered, and well educated but extremely ignorant. She is insecure and believes that everything is about her or a reflection on her.

There are stories I could tell, as recent as what happened last weekend, but I won’t. Let’s just say she continues to be crazy and my sisters and I continue to try and get sane.

My mother is a good person but we had our issues growing up. We are only dealing with these issues now (our relationship is better now than it’s been since I was 4 years old). Truthfully, she’s a fairly negative person. She had an unhappy dirt poor upbringing and her mother’s was worse. I have learned to accept that, though every now and then it still gets to me. She has slight narcissus tendencies. . . (there’s a book out about Narcissus Mothers, which I will probably buy and read). I tell her more and more about my life every day and I think she’s surprised by how much she missed (because she sort of wasn’t listening). But in comparison to some of these tales. . .I realize I had it okay.

I’m so touched reading all these crazy mother stories. Wow.
I’m grateful that I had two really good loving parents (and still have my mom). My only fear is that my own kids will be joining this club someday…

i’m going to have to call my sane and sweet mom tomorrow and tell her how much I appreciate her; wow, this post has opened my eyes, and d duff was banned from commenting, too!
unfortunately this doesn’t qualify me for the club, as I’m also not a mom, so you’re out one very experienced, unorganized office manager.

Wow – nice to be validated. My mom is in a class of her own; she is one scary b*****. She’s the type of crazy mom that smiles a sickly sweet smile and speaks in an equally saccharine tone of voice, all while grabbing you by the soft flesh at the back of the neck with her v. long nails and digging in. She has nothing to do with my children, beyond making up stories about them that portray her as a wonderful, understanding, truly connected grandma.
She and my father separated when I was 3 and my brother 4. They were 22 yrs apart in age. My father FOUGHT in WWII; my mother was born before he even got back to the states. He had a wife and a child. They divorced. I digress.
Fast forward many years – my brother and I were sent away to go to school when my mother was working night shifts for Sprint’s 1800 call center. I lived with a unique family with 9 children when I got there and had 4 more during the 5 years I lived there. Did I mention that they were very orthodox jews and my family was reform, and that my mother sent both my brother and me to orthodox jewish schools – where all of the children observed the jewish dietary laws – kosher- and most did not have televisions. They definitely did not watch Saturday morning cartoons and eat bacon cheeseburgers. To make long story short, I was an outcast before and after leaving home.
Tried my best as a teenager to fit in with my “foster family” to the point where I shut down as an individual and became the ultimate people pleaser; a “yes man”. I went along for the ride – wherever I was told to go. even got married a week after I graduated from High School because I was told that the boy I had been set up with, practically as an afterthought mind you, was a provider and had some $ and he probably wouldn’t wait for me if I decided to go away for a year to Israel like most of my classmates (I WAS already accepted into a program) and that “looking for a husband for me would be akin to searching with a candle in the dark.”
Dear reader, I married him. Now, nearly 20 years and 4 teenage children later, I woke up. I want out. I don’t know who I am. My entire adult life has been based on doing what other people have expected of me; what this community expects of me. I don’t believe that in this day and age that If I turn on or off a light between Friday @ sundown and Saturday night that I will go to hell. I don’t believe that it’s more important to make sure your skirt covers your knees – pants are verboten as men’s clothing, that a married woman must cover her hair in public, etc., than being a virtuous person.

weak one – Venting IS good. Action is even better, in your case. What stops you from leaving your marriage? Would marriage counseling help, do you think? Write to me at sisterwolf666@gmail if I can help direct you to some useful resources. It’s never too late to change your life. xo

We’ve started counseling – the therapist feels that we don’t know each other despite being married to each other for nearly 20 years; he compares us to a couple that just met and is starting to date. Fine. But he is not a person I would continue to go out with after a first date.
What’s stops me from leaving is that it is difficult to leave 4 children- teenage children. Contrary to popular belief, they are more difficult than small children.

My mother has the mind of a spiteful teenager who blames everything that has gone wrong in her life on everyone else. My parents divorced when I was a year old and my brother was three. We ended up with my father and grandmother. Ever since I can remember, she has told me awful stories of how my father and grandmother had “ruined her life”, “taken her kids away from her” and how my father had done things in the past that I dare not repeat. I find it funny that she would say these things, because I had the best childhood with my grandmother and father – and later stepmother. Meanwhile, she would only see us if it suited her schedule, spend her last $20 on buying herself sushi rather than buying groceries (she would rather us go to bed hungry), bum money off of us(she could never keep a job) and constantly got involved with abusive men. At 16 I finally told her that she needed to get help and ever since then I try to keep conversations with her limited…which is easy since she is a four hour flight away. Recently though, she became my facebook friend…and oh my goodness. She is leaving messages on my wall about how “she is my mother and that my stepmother was the mistress”. I want to strangle her because my stepmother was more of a mother to me than she ever was but I am scared to tell her that because part of me feels sorry for her and that she might do something stupid…she has questioned her existence in the past. What do I do???

mad and worried – In many ways, your mom reminds me of the way my mom behaved in her last years. Very needy but also very bitter and angry.

Your mom is probably mentally ill and it’s a shame that she never got help. I think that if you’re unable to persuade her to get some help, you need to take care of yourself by refusing to be manipulated. You aren’t guilty of anything. You are not responsible for what she did with her life. And you can’t fix things for her.

Make sure you have some support! I understand how you feel. It’s really difficult to handle a mom who pushes your buttons like this. My advice is, do what you can but be prepared to protect your own mental/emotional well-being.

A person’s upbringing shapes their perceptions of reality I think. My mother may have been ‘crazier than a shit-house rat’ or maybe not…who knows.

Her telling everyone that would listen that my father sexually molested my three year old sister was the last straw for me. I could have coped with her indifference, beatings and absence of love. But sitting there announcing that my father was a child rapist with a slight smile on her face was the straw that broke the camel’s back. When I asked her how she knew, she just said ‘I just know’ and that was the extent of the evidence I have heard from her since.

I became angry and didn’t behave to her liking, so she kicked me out. Shortly after puberty I discovered that I had a complete inability to relate to women affectionately. I decided in a rage that the solution would be to hang myself. Being thirteen, I broke down and cried before I could even get the rope tied. Afterward I was no longer enraged. I felt very clear headed.

I have had depression since then. One morbid fantasy involved me driving all the way up to where she lives, greeting her with a manic laugh, putting a gun in my mouth then spraying most of my brain onto her lovely wallpaper and curtains. Wont happen. My body wants to survive, even when nothing else of me does.

May be able to dissolve my craziness with a combination of: antidepressants, online cognitive therapy and seeing a therapist of a more unconventional nature. Maybe, maybe not. Whoever claims to know the future has me beat and wins first place in the competition of craziness.

I know this is a year and several months late but I have been working backwards through your blog.

My mother was/is a full blown paranoid schizophrenic. She had always been a little off and very moody but things suddenly went to pieces around her 40 birthday. She suddenly divorced my father and accused him of trying to murder her and poison her children (me and my younger sister). I was younger than 10 at the time.

She was to really physically abusive but what was disturbing was how her mood could violently change at any second. She could be laughing and happy and enjoying herself, only to fall down crying hysterically the next moment, and then fly into a blind rage the next. Little me loved my mother and I was trying to help her by doing anything she wanted but I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t do what she wanted. Often what she was asking me was beyond my understanding. She had been well educated and clever but now everything she said was jumbled together as a classic word salad symptom of schizophrenia. Often she berated me for being less than perfect or told me that my arrival had ruined her career (it hadn’t, which is really confusing). She drilled into my head that I was terrible and I would get knocked up in high school, have to drop out, and be chained to an infant. And people wonder why I was terrified of any sexual contact well into adulthood.

Her delusions were always changing, often centering on food. We had to pick a random restraunt every night so “they” couldn’t poison our food. She forbade us from eating food at our dad’s.

Eventually my dad was able to win custody of us after she suddenly ran away from home, never to be seen or heard from again. He’s a really good parent and really did his best to undo the damage done to my sister and me.

Even though I feel damaged by it all, I can’t bring myself to be mad at my mother. She was truly mentally ill. She felt hunted by unseen enemies and frequently hallucinated things that weren’t there. I feel bad for her and hoped she has found comfort somewhere, if she is still alive. However, I am mad at the teachers and relatives who brushed me off when I tried to explain my mother’s behavior, saying that I was exaggerating or dreaming things up. They have no excuse.

I feel somewhat haunted by this. I thought her behavior was normal and it took me a long time to unlearn a lot of that. I have a hard time reading people and I usually just assume people around me are angry at me. Most of all I’m afraid I’ll end up like that. I don’t think I will but it’s an idea that scares me so much. I would rather end up dead than afraid of everything.

Oh, thank heavens I’m not alone….I won’t take up any more space but yep, mine was and is a nutter too. Self-centered, martyred in her own mind, endlessly competitive with me, given to humiliating sexual teasing and gross comments and – since Obama won the election – screeching racist, anti-whoever/whatever tirades. Big fat ball of hatred with a 1960s bouffant.

I don’t really give a shit any longer. She tormented me for 35+ years, but one day I took a look at her when she was ranting about blacks, Jews, etc. and realized that she was an ignorant, unbalanced mental case and not worth my brain time. This has been very liberating because it’s allowed me to realize that I “should” love her, but don’t really feel anything at all (have not in a long, long time), and that not feeling for someone abusive is OK. I’m very, very, very sorry to say that when she’s gone I doubt I’ll miss her, and suspect I’ll feel some relief in being free of the boiling hatred.

Bob – my mom told me once that my dad was “a crap product of incest” (which he wasn’t) and giggled. Then told me that I better get a genetic test because “I bet you’re all screwed up inside.” NUTS. People who say things like that aren’t even human they’re so nuts. That day was probably one of the days when I stopped feeling anything at all for her.

you know what’s sad? that when i read this the first time around, i didn’t join because i was terrified my mother would find me spilling all our family’s dirty secrets online and i was scared of what she would do. and i’m also paranoid she’s reading this right now. sorry mom.

The crazies that are in families come down through the line like rain. I can see it on both sides of my mother and father. They were both crazy in different ways. My sibs and I were beat like most kids when we misbehaved, but that wasn’t the worst part – it was the mental abuse. She liked to make fun of my sensitive nature by saying that when the football team huddled, I would think they are talking about me. All her jokes were at somebody else’s expense. Usually mine. I am extremely paranoid to this day. My father was also crazy, but that’s for another day. The apple does not fall far from the tree, that’s why the redemption process through trust and faith in God is important for the ‘survivor’ and as many have said here, psychoanalysis should always be considered.

God. 2 years + late to the party, but it feels good to join this club!
I’m afraid to tell people in my real life how crazy my mother was, lest they judge me or think me unlovable or unstable because some of her has ‘rubbed off on me.’ And some of it has, rest assured. But at least I’m trying to fix it and find some semblance of mental balance. I don’t think she was a bad person per se, but an incredibly jealous and insecure woman, with undiagnosed psychiatric issues. Maybe I’m just not able to say she was/is a bad person yet!

The years and year of opening my mail, snooping in my room/car/bag/wallet, wails of martyrdom and playing my sisters off against one another has certainly taken a toll on our relationship, as well the relationships I share with my siblings (we are trying to rebuild them at the moment, but it’s a two steps forward, one step back scenario). One sister is in and out of hospital with anorexia, the other has run far, far away. .

I’m naturally the sort of unpleasant individual who likes to call people on their bullshit, so you can guess which of us she directs the most vitriol towards. Mentally I began to distance myself from her the day she screamed at me for not telling her that I had started my period (I had stayed over at a friends that night, so told my friend and her mother, who in turn called my mother). She then told me sanitary napkins were disgusting, held me down on the bed and forcefully inserted a tampon into me. I was 13.
Ha, I’ve never shared that with anyone before (too many gross/shameful associations), but reading back on that, what a cunt move on her part.

I still see her regularly, but it’s with many an internal eyeroll and an intention to ignore the bulk of what she says.
Thanks for the venting space!

I don’t know how I missed Bob’s comment! Bob, I hope and pray you’re out there somewhere, alive and kicking. Depression can be helped, though i know what a struggle it is. If you read this, let me know, xo

Somebody – Your experience sounds terrifying but familiar. You are right to be angry. Your ability to forgive your mom is evidence that your compassion is intact, and that you survived. DOn’t worry…you’re YOU, not her.

MJ – It’s healthy and appropriate to untangle yourself from a crazy abusive mother. It’s hard to love someone like this, and there’s no reason to try. I know what you’ve gone through.

alittlelux – You’re safe here. I’ll protect you, xo

aweebit – Your mum sounds like my dad. The cruelty is hard to comprehend, now that I’m a parent. I’m glad you are finding redemption.

Clara – Your mom needed to be on meds. It’s not your fault! There is no shame in being a helpess child. As you see, you’re not alone. Look how many of us are stumbling around, trying to process this shit. I’m glad you found your way here to vent.

I have a crazy mom but I had a crazier father. My mom is still in my life and I understand why she was so crazy, she was combating my crazy father who stalked me. My mom got down and dirty and protected me. And while this makes her crazy I love her a bunch. Point of reference: My mother making pay bills at the age of 14 (when we lived in a rich county) and allowing my father to ciphen 10,000 dollars out of my college fund. There wasn’t much hitting unless I was a real smart mouth but the pyscological abuse was rampant. Everything from I am not skinny enough to I need to play a certain sport to make my mom look good.

It was rough realizing that both of my parents had problems because I grew up thinking they were normal and that although they didn’t live together I was normal. It was hard for me to look outside of my situation and see all the “normal” families. I picked up a nice drinking habit at a young. Thanks to friends I feel happier and healthier.

Can I say it was really weird spilling my guts online and it felt good. I hope that those that need help can receive it. I was also comforted by what some of the commentors and Sister Wolf had to say. Thanks a bunch!

As a mother who is realizing that my daughter is finding me ’embarrassing’ and maybe ‘crazy’ I read these comments looking for confessions of crazy mothers. There aren’t any! I am, however, realizing that I am no where near any of this craziness to be counted as a crazy mom that I was fearing of becoming.

I’ve always been one to not fit in with most of the people around me but never cared about others approval. Having two girls (10 and 12), and speaking my mind when it’s inconvenient for the situation is getting to be more and more embarrassing for my 12 year old. I do not look for confrontations but I am just not afraid of them if it’s necessary. It bothers me to see how upsetting it was to her when I yell back at the bullying woman who lives across from their school where I pick them up. The more she begs me to stop the more I angry I get. It isn’t as if she is a shy child herself. With her increasing ‘mama please’ when I speak up for what I perceive as injustice or standing up for my rights I am beginning to fear that I might be a “crazy mother’ in her eyes.

Please, can we have some input from the crazy mothers out there? You know who you are, or am I the only crazy mother-in-waiting?

My moms so nutters it gives me high blood pressure just to think about. She was a hoarder, a bit of a whore who let me watch her having sex with various men, never cooked or cleaned, we went through periods without running water, threw me down a flight of steps once, verbally traumatized me on a daily basis, etc. etc. etc. We weren’t really poor, by the way. She made a good living, but she was just lazy or depressed or crazy or some combination of the three.

I remember wishing she would die. I actually remember having a conversation with my highschool boyfriend about different ways I would fantisize about her dying. She is a police officer and worked nights, and I used to wait and hope for the phonecall that someone had fatally shot her while on duty. I felt trapped before I moved out and left for college. I still feel trapped now whenever she calls. I feel myself shrinking into a little girl whenever she calls to berate me, and I’m so tired of bursting into tears after every conversation we have. It’s absurd that at 24 and after 6 years out of her house of horrors, she’s still able to make me burst into tears after just a phone conversation. I really hate her and how she’s screwd me up. I have a wonderful boyfriend who loves me, but our relationship is still pretty screwed up since I have no idea what a functional family life looks like. I have no friends, I notice her crazy start to come out in me whenever I get too close to someone. I hate her.

I wana kill myself sometimes. I used to say that jokingly all the time, but I’m crying as I write this because I don’t think I’m joking at all anymore.

my mom is a crazy bitch !!!
i cant do anything without her sreaming at me and grounding me
im 15 and she is a control freak
she yells at me for coming home 10 minutes late , when i dont call , and the worst part is when i stay up late and she will take away my laptop for a week
did i mention its summer so i can stay up late
i have a boyfriend who i never get to see because my mom hardly lets me see him for over 2 hours
she always talks about trying to connect with me
yeah well thats never going to happen because im going to fricken shun her out of my life im done with her bullshit ,i just want a normal life where i dont have her breathing down my neck every minute

Honestly, my mom always thinks I look down at her and she gets mad at me for it. She always takes things seriously and scream at my face when she’s mad, I get mad how paranoid she really is. I think it’s due to lack of friends that she has and plus, I know that she has a very crude personality for hating people at a first impression. Honestly, I’m really getting tired of her and her idiotic arguments with me thinking that I disrespect/look down at her.

My mother is crazy still today and she is 60. I don’t think I ever overcame the embarrassment of her. I know this blog is really old and no one will probably ever read it. MY mother sent me an email for mother’s day about how I lack compassion for her. My mother has been married seven times, left me at 14 months old with the man she says she is afraid of. of course my mother has already killed her own father (my grandfather) before I was born. She fears nothing. She told me it was a shock factor that she killed her dad. Oh MY GOD. She has now lied to her family and says my grandmother has Alzheimer. She doesn’t they wouldn’t take her at a nursing home. So she begged a government agency to put her in assisted living. Nothing she does surprises me. I know that the relationship with her has really impacted my life.

A non-mom is my mom. A cat-like skitish creature that is scared most of the time. She astonishes family when she leaps out from behind corners hissing and scratching when she even THINKS anyone is threatening her. Don’t come near her cookies or candy or confront her with anything!!

Could be that some past trauma has ruined her life, but she’s not talking. Cats like her don’t use words – they hiss, slash and run.

My mom is crazy in a paranoid bipolar personality sense. To make it clearer, for most of my young life she told me that my friends were not friends at all, but “enemies” who wanted to humiliate me. Then around thirteen to twenty, she deemed by brother and I as “going off the edge”, which means drugs and sex according to her. Keep in mind, both my brother and I were star athletes and near straight A students who were also tutoring and working on the side. If we didn’t win an athletic competition we were grounded, and I got a B on a test once when I was in 3rd grade. I sat out on the porch crying and wondering if I should run away from home in shame, when I told her my thoughts she said “Good, you should run away” and then locked me out of the house.
She also liked to slap us once in a while and laughed if we flinched. One of her favorite hobbies is singing songs to the dogs about how much she hates us and how we ruined her life. She also likes to say loudly how she wished she never married or had us. But, randomly she would get into good moods and is suddenly nice…she’s never consistent.
For the paranoia part, it’s mostly targeted at me. She believes that I am trying to seduce my father, so she and my brother will be cut out of the will and I gain all of the inheritance. No joke! She has also accused me of having an affair with my father since I was 16. When any of this is repeated back to her, she acts as if she has never said it and that she has done no wrong to us. The only thing she regrets is that we are not religious, but how can we be when she complains about the priest during church and if we do anything to make her mad she drives away without us and we have to walk home.

I have after many years diagnoed my mother with Borderline Personality Disorder or to put it simply, she is a sadistic, manipulative, crazy bitch. She is also 85 and just been in a car accident which has her with a broken hip, etc. This woman CANNOT live with my family when it is time to get out of rehab. Any suggestions other than the obvious solution….

Im in with bells on…..Jewish nutjob momma who became Uniting Church minister, got married 11 times (namechanges so frequent that when she was dying in hospital, I could not tell receptionist at hospital desk what my mothers last name was..), who drank herself to an early death (53) and told me that she did not believe that beating me so badly as a kid that I was made a ward of the state and put in a childrens home was not her problem, as she had “Left the broken pieces of me at the base of the True Cross”….?!? Mkay. Her last words to me were “At least you have a brain, cause you’ll never get by on your looks”…words to treasure….And Sister Wolf? Thankyou for your honesty and humour…I always knew I was just fine, wierdness and all…and after checking out Sea of Shoes etc etc…..Im not just fine..Im rocking it!! Peace…Respect…and thankyou

My mother is completely psychotic, she’s competitive and moody and self-centered. She makes everything into a condescending joke, belittling and sharing personal/humiliating things about me with other people. When I try to call her on it, she tells me to lighten up and stop taking myself so seriously!

I’m 22 now and recently moved back home in a new country and feel so alone, I have no friends to talk about my problems and she always gets my father to take her side. She is petty and immature and overly dramatic, does things and starts fights without thinking about the implications and the actions of what she says and expects me to apologize the next day. She holds the fact that I’m living in her house to an advantage and nothing is ever good enough for her, if I could have it my way I’d be out of this place!

When I was younger she once cut off my hair with kitchen scissors and made me wear it to school like that, she dug her nails into my skin until marks appeared and she threatened to leave me on the side of the road and drive off….she didn’t because a couple walking by asked her if everything was alright. Every time I bring up these incidents as an adult, she tells me I ‘imagined them’ and that they never happened. Whenever I would do anything to upset her, she’d tell me she regretted the day I was born and should have cut off my tongue to stop me from speaking back to her.

Julie – SOunds like my own mom in some ways. I am ready and willing to diagnose Borderline Personality Disorder. You can google this term and see if it fits.

Your mother has huge mental problems and she will probably always refuse to recall the truth about how she treated you. In her mind, she needs to see herself as a goo mother…she may even see herself as victimized by YOU, cuz that’s what Borderlines do.

It sounds like she compulsively undermines you at every opportunity. If you can’t move out just yet, protect you mental health by taking to a counselor or social worker or some child abuse hotline.

Read up on BPD, so you can view her behavior with insight instead of pure misery.

YOu will do better as a mom because you know exactly what not to do.

xoxoxo

Steel Magnolia – So sorry for not getting back to you. What happened???? I don’t blame you for your decision to keep her at a distance.

I discovered this blog a few months back after a particularly bad spell with my psyscho mom found me online in frustration, searching for an outlet, and I read and read and enjoyed (if that is the right word?) not that all of you have had to go through what I have, but at least that there are others out there who can understand. And believe me, I understand and my heart bleeds for all of you, as it does for myself.

Before I elaborate on my own problems, after reading the above recent posts about borderline personality disorder, I wanted to offer up the following website that I found immensely interesting: http://www.thepsychoexwife.com/understanding-the-borderline-mother/. It’s an excerpt from a book about borderline mothers that I haven’t managed to get from the library yet but maybe we all should read.

So, from the website, my mom is a hermit with strong shades of queen, who vacillates between witch and waif in weaker high-stress moments. She’s in her 60’s now and has been getting steadily worse in self-control (if she ever had any) and becoming more of a monster the past several years. I’m terrified that the process seems to be speeding up as she gets older. And, considering they say the good die young, she will probably live to be 110 and I’ll have to support her in her old age.

That is not to say that she hasn’t tried to be a good mom. In some way she loves me a lot, and has always tried to show her love by buying me things and giving me presents. Or by controlling every facet of my life. Of course, another My Little Pony (when I was young) or another dress or pair of shoes or nice meal (now that I’m 27) really doesn’t make up for the mental scars I receive when she stresses out about something (which might even be as small as misplacing the case for her glasses), winds up blaming me, rants and raves and screams that I must have moved them, and she can never find stuff b/c of all my “shit” around (must add here that she’s a bit of a hoarder and my dad and I are drowning in the stuff she compulsively buys or more likely the piles of magazines or newspaper articles she compulsively clips which are now in stacks in the basement, under our beds, on the sofa, etc., etc.. Btw, I’m a bit of a neatness OCD, mostly because I didn’t want to grow up to be like her and hate the density of the crap in her house, so my stuff is DEFINITELY not making things a mess), and eventually winds up in a rant of what a horrible daughter I am, how I’m so hard on her, how I think her house is a mess (even if I try never to say so), how everything in her life is so miserable, how she wishes I were a sweet little girl again (instead of an adult who can’t help but judge her, she can see me doing it even if i never verbalize it), and the rant might or might not devolve into the point of anger where she tells me that no wonder I’m not dating anyone/engaged/married because I’m such a mean person that no man would ever take me, or that I’m dead to her and she’s sitting shiva for me (she’s nominally Jewish, which adds lots of cultural crazy genes right there. Btw, she’s sat shiva for me, which would mean mourning me as if I’m dead to her, at least 8 times throughout my life), or that I’ve ruined her life (variation on this is that my dad did, which is still my fault because she stayed with him for my sake), etc., etc.

At least that’s the normal package of crazy dysfunctionalness. Lately she’s been getting more physical. Tonight she got stressed because of something one of the cats did which was attributed as my fault b/c it’s my cat, and she hit my arm hard. Normally I’m pretty good at ignoring her crap so as to not escalate things (seriously, it means almost nothing to me when someone swears at me because I’m so used to her calling me names like “little bitch” and “cunt” all while I was growing up), but sometimes I just snap, esp. when she gets physical. After all, the emotional/psychological scars you can hide (sometimes). The physical stuff is a little harder. So tonight I ended up grabbing her really rough and yelling at her that if she ever touched me again I would seriously take her out. Bad idea. Next thing I know a few mins later when I was doing something else something hard hit me in the back of the head. The coward had thrown a frozen popsicle she was going to eat at me when I wasn’t looking. They’re not kidding when they say that BPD people’s emotional growth really stops between the ages of 8 and 12. In fact, I would have sworn that there was a 60-year old woman going through her terrible two’s. So of course the fight escalated into a nightmare, and the horrible thing is that if not by tomorrow morning than by the following one she will be acting as if everything’s fine and like she’s completely forgotten the situation, and the rest of us will have to carry the burden of acting along and pretending everything’s alright until the next blowup occurs. If that doesn’t make her crazy, I don’t know what would.

Yeah, so some other stuff–back when I was a teen unable to control my hormones or my emotions, she and I would occasionally get into slapping/hitting fights because she could control her emotions even less than I could, and I was unable to conceive yet that she was a pathetic person with an emotional and psychological problem and that my responses weren’t and would never alter the situation because you can’t help someone who refuses to acknowledge they have a problem and who refuses to help themselves. Those incidences were rare, but the more damaging ones were the constant flipping back and forth of her emotions, loving me as her only child one moment whom she was so proud of (I was a straight-A student, involved in a million extracurriculars, fairly attractive, etc.) and seriously fifteen minutes later hating me and telling me I was a worthless unlovable ingrate because I did something stupid that upset her. Which might have been as simple as accidentally leaving the lights on in the bathroom after I had left the room or forgetting to set the VCR to tape one of her shows. *sigh* To this day I have real trust issues, especially with men, and am a bit loathe letting most people except for a few close girlfriends get close to me and know the real situation. I blame most of that on her. I am also ridiculously independent, to the detriment of some friendships and relationships, because she has always been so nagging and controlling of me. When I was young it mostly revolved around making me do homework for countless hours (she didn’t need to; I’m a type-A overachiever anyway), trying to control who my friends were (she hates religious Christians but we were living in a mostly-religious-Christian place so hated those Christian friends of mine who were and are really nice people), etc. Nowadays I’ve lived away mostly for the past ten years but find myself back here at intervals and she still treats me like I’m 12, insists on knowing where and when I’m going with whom, tells me a million times a day to wash my hands (she’s gotten really cleanliness OCD the past few years), insists when it’s cold I need to wear more layers or when it’s around meal times that I need to eat more or different things (as if I’m not an adult who can’t regulate my own temperature or food intake), has opinions on my boyfriends/friends/activities/etc., all of which she finds problems with, and when I try not to tell her stuff she says I’m hiding things and keeps prying. She’s been involved in both my painful breakups after long-term relationships, mostly because during that time I was still learning how not to internalize her treatment and behave towards others like that. I will always be haunted by what my first serious college boyfriend said shortly before we broke up after an episode where she’d been stalking us and I got frustrated and lashed out at him to leave me alone too. He said, “An image just flashed through my mind of us in twenty years and I see myself having been browbeaten down like your mother did to your father. I don’t want to become that.” He was a good guy, but one who couldn’t understand the situation and my reaction, having come from a normal family, but it was at that point that I finally saw how much I had internalized and realized I NEVER EVER wanted to become my mother and started the process of reversing those internalized attitudes and behaviors.

Basically I’ve come to view my mother as a miserable person who nonetheless doesn’t want to escape her own misery because she’s forgotten how to live without being unhappy and is scared to find out how life would look otherwise. I feel sorry for her, and not only because she suffers from horrible chronic pain after several car accidents the past many years which exacerbates her personality problems. I used to attribute her depression, horrible nagging, and other behaviors to this chronic pain, but more recently after talks with my uncle (her brother) and my dad who knew her before the accidents, I have learned that even when she very young she was incredibly insecure because her father ignored her in favor of his sons and her mother was too busy working to pay her attention. My uncle says even then she used to magnify any illness she had to get attention. My dad tells me she used to overreact even before they were married, such as one time when her luggage was lost on a flight when she was visiting him and he bought her new clothes to surprise her, she flipped out and started yelling at him that he had no taste and the clothes were hideous. No thanks, just attacks. I wouldn’t have married her, but I guess I should be glad he did because I’m here now. Though of course I have been through times in my life where I wished I weren’t here anymore at all, thanks mom. 😛 So yeah, mostly I feel sorry for her because she got a bit of a shitty lot in life, but has added to it by creating a lot of her problems herself. I imagine most of our crazy mothers are hurting someway or just ill in the head so we can’t blame them fully for their own behaviors.

Anyway, I know this has been long, but in conclusion I wanted to say that happily by framing my thoughts about her in this way, mostly that she is pathetic and miserable person and only lashes out at others because of her own internal pain, I have gotten to a much better mental place and mostly feel sorry for her, though I can’t help hating her sometimes. Some of my favorite coping mechanisms are just getting away (like I said, normally live at least 800 miles away, and I don’t give her my work number or many other means of contacting me), not responding, being super rational so she can’t really argue with fact/logic, changing the subject, giving her presents (since that’s the way she shows and understands emotion), or when all else fails, deflecting her anger onto something else. I haven’t cut her out of my life completely yet b/c my dad still lives with her and has health problems (probably at least party due to the stress of having her in his life) and I owe it to him to still come by to see him and not leave him alone dealing with the mess she is. But I agree with others above that sometimes you have to make that break final for your own health and that of others. I mean, if/when I have kids, I don’t think I want them being around that, so it might become time for some tough decisions to be made…

Anyway, thanks for listening and best luck to all of you in dealing with your sad, crazy moms. It is NEVER your fault, and if you do lash out/lash back as I sometimes do, it only means you’re human. Like Sister Wolf, I’m here if anyone needs to share/talk.

Surviving – Listen. You need to be kinder to yourself AND to stay away from your mother until you can genuinely feel more detached and able to view her as mentally ill.

You CANNOT let yourself react when she pushed your buttons. Since she is capable of physical aggression, I wish you would call social services in her community and tell them what’s going on. Jewish Family Services would be great if they have an office somewhere in her city.

She is nuts, just like my mother and a lot of the ones described in these comments. But you must transcend this legacy of craziness, through therapy, meds, whatever means you can find.

Don’t be a human sacrifice to your mother. Social services can help your dad too.

Even though I’m an atheist, I am saying a prayer for you. Look back on that innocent little girl you were and praise her strength and survival skills. Then, stay away from your mother. xo

I’ve got a crazy ass mom. She let my brother molest me for years and
PROTECTED HIM. She still protects him. On my wedding day the crazy bitch yelled at me.. never said I looked beautiful.. I love you or nothing!! She then proceeded to have a space case look the whole wedding! So a month into my new marriage she filed for divorce from my dad. She put a restraining order on me and claimed” I beat her for years and emotionally abused her.” So instead of getting to enojoy my new marriage I had to defend myself in court… Oh did I mention she teamed up with the guy who molested me, my brother? Also told people my dad was the one who molested me… which wasn’t true considering I remember the molestation and was 13 when it stopped. It stopped because I got stronger and defended myself. Did my mom defend me?? NO!!!! Should she of?? YES!!.. So flash forward 2 1/2 years to now.. She is going into places I do business and asking where I live. I moved so I could get away from her!! Oh yeah during the past two and 1/2 years she has put large nails behind my tires and came to my old house with a blanket around her head and sunglasses on.. it was 10 at night!! Dark!! We pulled up to her with the blanket around her head… She took off!! The list goes on and on.. My brother held a gun to my face when I was 19.. She asked me what I did to provoke him?? Does that sound like a nutjob or what??!!??

I love suggesting to my friends that we have a “Come as Your Mother” Party, where everyone would be required to be in character as there own mother. My experience has been that my suggestion is always met with shock and horror. The usual retort goes: “That’s too weird” or “I couldn’t handle that!” So the next time you and your friends are trying to come up with a theme party throw out my idea; see how many of your friends have crazy mama syndrome!

So, so mad. I’m 22 and trying to figure things out, trying not to be unhappy like my mother. I meditate and read Buddhist self help books and do yoga up the wazoo. But when I get home to my mother, I find that I’m not happy unless she’s happy. And it’s hard for her to be happy with a 12 year old daughter with a mood disorder and a son with ADHD. Also, my stepfather is a baby. Like, he can’t make pizza for his son because he wants to read books on Foucault. And I get so mad. I get so mad at them, because they give her such a hard time. And then I get so mad at her, because then she throws things at my little brother and sister, and tells them that they ruined her life, and I try to defend them and then she lashes out at me. Tonight she told me to “Fuck off.” I felt like I was back in middle school, with those mean girls who made me feel like I wasn’t worth anything.

I don’t know what to do. I just want to make things right. I want to make my mother calm, and make her feel good about her life. She has food, a house, a good job, lots of nice clothes. And it’s not adding up, and I want to show her she can find her peace. But I have to go back to college, and have my routine there. Sometimes I just want to live at home and shield my younger siblings from what I experienced.

What can I do? I feel so young, but so old from everything that I’ve experienced.

I worked for 5 years in a hardware store, but witnessed one of my best mates die on the shop floor with a heart anurism – it was awful, the noise of a man fighting for his breath still plagues my memories today and some nights i struggle to sleep too. After this traumatic event i tried to slit my wrists but failed… despite spending 4 hours trying, i don’t why but i couldnt seem to get the knife in deep enough. I had no sympathy at all during this time from my mother, she would just say ” your too sensitive, stop being a girl!” – it was only my boss from my job that interverned when collegues become aware of my scars on my arm and my chronic depressed state. I was appointed a counciller and signed off work for 4 months with major depression, which was so bad that i shyed away from social situations, fell out with friends on purpose, and had extremely low self-esteem. Despite all of this i tried to learn html/css and abit of javascript and made websites to distract me from thoughts of killing myself which id would get about 6 times a day.

I was in complete isolation, and when i tried to go out to my local pub with my dad i found it hard to connect with people as i had lost all social skills. When my counciler said “how would feel about going back to work? it will be a good distraction away from your thought and you will be able to build your socail skills up.” i replied “Yes i think so too, its just to be honest i cant go back to work there after everything thats happened ive got to many bad memories attatched to that place.” My counciler completely understood and reccomended that i found another job with the help of suffolk employment care, which she refered me to. My mother was furiated that i was finishing with my place of work and she wouldnt drop it and let me move on and said ” why dont you go back there” and “stop being sensitive!” She couldnt seem to grasp how upset i was and this would always end up with auguements over the dinner table when i was at my weakiest and just wanted her to be supportive towards me.

I did eventually find a job as a waiter in a local pub which i was enjoying but had to be let go after 3 weeks because they didnt have the hours. My depression started to worsen again, even with the medication ( citalopram 20mg) the thoughts of suicide started to come back. I knew i had to get back into work somehow so a mates dad suguested i worked for him as a door canvasser – ( in case you don’t know what that is, its basically someone who walks from door to door saying ” would you like a free price non-obligratory price qoute on our range of pvc doors and conservatorys?) which was ok but it was costing me a fortune in transport and despite getting 12 leads in a week i didnt get payed a penny out of my promised Â£400!

Anyhow that leads me to my present situation, im currently unemployed and searching for any type of job i can get with the whole time my mum having a go at me or purposely acting awcward around me and raising her voice to shout at my dad about me when im upstairs. What ive been doing recentely is going into town on the weekends in the afternoon through to early hours the following morning to get away from her, but as soon as a walk in she starts having a go about how im ruining my life and she will kick me out the house soon because she cant watch as a destroy myself. If it wasnt for her being so horrible towards me then i would stay in on the weekends, but she makes me feel like she doesnt want me around. Ok maybe im too old to be living at home but if thats how she feels why doesnt she just kick me out rather then making idle threats and trying to make me feel guitly for everything i do. Im not trying to take the piss but i try so hard everyday to get a job and get some money behind me even when im serouisly depressed and cant think about anything apart from suicide, i still get my ass out of bed a go to the job centre. i dont know what the answer is… But this helps a little bit to express myself.

I have a crazy Grandmother who is obsessed with her religion because she thinks everything is sin. So I’m gonna tell you what she thinks sin. 1. she thinks dancing is sin because you move you body around. 2. Thinks eating pork is sin because she thinks if you eat Ribs and Steak She says that you’ll kill yourself. And that’s all I wanted to say.

i have a crazy mother. i think something is seriously wrong with her. growing up in this household, there was a lot of screaming, yelling, and tears. she never listened to me, never understood, never empathized, she was so mean and cruel, and completely self-centered, self-absorbed. she is irrational…and there is such difficulty trying to talk to an irrational person…how do you argue with a false reality?

when i was being bullied at school, i came home and told my mother….and she told me i must have done something to cause it! that made me cry even more because now, not only was i bullied, i had caused it and didn’t even know what i had done. consequently, i grew up with low self-esteem and low self-worth. i was afraid of everything and could barely function as an adult…..no one was there for me. no support.

i went through years of depression, anxiety, and hurt. then after i got a job, she expected me to completely support her financially! she said she worked so hard as a parent….even though she was either emotionally absent or emotionally abusive. to this day she shames me, blames me, throws temper tantrums, gets angry, has a nasty temper, nothing i do is ever good enough for her. it’s always about her, it’s never my turn to have any feelings, thoughts, concerns. i feel like i have to be constantly paying her tribute, giving her attention, or catering to her demands. it’s driving me crazy.

on top of that, i think she lies to me, and she’s manipulative. she manipulates to get what she wants – and if she doesn’t get her way, she will slam the door, bang cupboards, lock herself in her room, bang dishes, stomp her feet, hiss under her breath, and act like she’s being victimized. it’s like dealing with a child….there is such completely lack of emotional maturity.

i also think she expects me to sacrifice my life to cater to her needs, wants, and providing for her, afterall, isn’t that what she had me for?

she lacks self-awareness, doesn’t connect her actions, words, and behavior to resulting outcomes. and thinks i’m the “bad” and “selfish” one. it’s crazy and i refuse to live like this. for many years i’ve kept silent, i was too embarassed and ashamed to let other people know…..i wanted to protect the family reputation….but now i want to call a spade a spade.

My crazy mother just made trouble between my sister and her three brothers of which I’m the youngest. The middle brother was visiting and took out my brother and his son (who were also visiting from out of town), my two boys and myself, along with mom to a fancy dinner out. My mother didn’t want my sister there. The really hurt my sis and she is still sort of mad that we brothers went along with this and didn’t stick up for her. I feel bad about this and really wish we didn’t have a crazy mother, since this was probably the last time we are all going to be in the same place again. I hope my sister forgives us one day.

Thank you for this meeting place of brothers and sisters who experienced the awful joys of having a crazy parent(s). My mother is one of the rank and file crazies, though I understand now that she could not help it. Neglect, psychotic ramblings, zoning out, physical abuse, crying, blaming, extreme unhappiness, angry fits, broken dishes, hypochodriac treatments, and beatings were the order of the day in my household growing up. My father absorbed himself in his work during the day, and when he came home, all seemed normal..at least for a while. But during those days, she was a different person, and my brothers and sister and I tiptoed around her as if she were an active volcano. She didn’t want us and hated her life as a country housewife, so she chose escapism. That in addition to an unlucky genetic predisposition, gave birth to her madness. As we grew up, her fits became more and more uncontrollable until she was a danger. It’s a weird feeling being scared of your own mother..trust issues anyone? In college, my older sister finally went back home to help her get some help, but by that time, irreversible damage was already done. She was diagnosed as Manic Depressive and Schizofrenic. For a long time, I have never been able to have a real conversation with my mother…I’ve never been able to go to her for any comfort or advice. There is a huge gap in my life, and it makes me not able to relate to women very well..there is some nagging feeling here that everything will unravel at any moment in my relationships..powerless to change or alter..just a working chaos. If you are like me, then you have probably wasted a whole lot of your life trying to find a substitute or foster mother to sooth your wounded inner child. You look to food, drugs, sex, bad relationships, fantasies which all results in more damage to your inner self. Only now, at 41, am I becoming the mother to myself that I never had….that’s what you have to learn to be in the end…no one can play this role for you, though you may really desire it. I often am reminded of that song..”Sometimes, I feel like a Motherless Child”….it’s our theme song..sing it in mourning and sing it proudly. If you’re still alive, broken as you may feel, then you will be able to pull your scattered selves together and become the divine parent. God Bless..

My mother is a liar and a lunatic. After allowing me, my husband, and my son to move in to save money and help her out financially, she let my brother, her POA and chief asshole kick us out. Supposedly the house needs renovations (refinish floors and minor plumbing issues) and they can’t be made with us here. The latest is that she is deeding the house to him so that he can borrow money against the house to make the repairs. She cannot comprehend that, if she dies during the process — and she’s 84, he cannot simply sell the house and give us half of the money without paying 50% in gift taxes. It’s either beyond her comprehension or negates what my lying, stealing brother is telling her. He is nothing but a bully and a braggart.

We are going to the lawyer tomorrow. I hope he can do something to stop this. I am hoping they find her incompetent, find that he is taking advantage of her, and remove him as POA. I also have to address whether or not my brother can be charged with assault. My 15yo son said something to him, my brother lunged at him. I pushed my brother’s stomach and grabbed his arm to stop him from touching my son. He grabbed my hair, twisted my neck, and shoved me into the stove. I REALLY hurt my neck and shoulder.

Mom was once diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. I am bipolar, but it is well controlled with meds. My mother is totally psycho. I hate for her to lose everything, because that will mean I will lose everything that my father worked for. But if she does, she deserves it. And all the repercussions.

Im glad to see im not alone.the four sacred rules i use to deal with my crazy mother as follows-
1.SHE is ALWAYS the VICTIM
2.EVERYTHING she says is gospel TRUTH.
3.SHE lives in her own little crazy world
4She is INSAINE(nuttier than a squirrel turd)
so i nod my head alot and say ok alot and never argue because thats what crazy moms THRIVE on is negitive energy-at least my mom does and this is how ive dealt with her.maybe this will help others.

actually that doesnt explain everything-MY MOM IS A MENTALLY ILL LADY.didnt know it when I was little,I made those rules up when I was a little kid to deal with her insanity and I still follow them today.My mom would go from extremely happy to bawling with her mascara streaming down her face spaced out from whatever pill she happened to be on.I dont know how many men i was forced to call daddy.I was abused and molested and all the while she was ALWAYS the victim-even as I went through countless years of therapy and eating disorders-still to this day always the victim.She LIES constantly and exaggurates EVERYTHING.Its her full time job to meddle in my life.anything i do that turns out successful she sabotages it-all so she can have the HELPER role and be my best friend.I read a book called TOXIC PARENTS that helped me alot.It made me understand her sick little world she lives in.Its a world where she can completely ruin anothers life and never consider the consequences.IT is unreal the things she has done-because of her i lost over half of a million dollars that she had STRANGERS have instead of me!!!!! and countless opportunities.she fucks up everything and nothing is ever her fault.A true manipulator and bender of truth.I read all the other stories here on this page and its surreal.There are so many EVIL mothers and fathers in the world.This truely is the devils world.Im happy I got all this off my chest.It felt good to rant

Thanks again for providing this place to read and write about our crazy moms. I still haven’t fully fixed the rift between my sister and me. And our mother continues to be unhappy with her living conditions so she takes it out on us. We (the kids) have moved her numerous times, but this last time she had her caseworker arrange everything. She claimed the place she was living at was poisoning her food. It’s only a matter of time before she finds something wrong with the new place. She didn’t call or send a card on my kids birthdays (or mine for that matter). Whatever, mom. If only those of us who contribute to this page had nice surrogate mothers, like a great in-law, but that rarely seems to be the case. Misery loves company. Maybe next time around…

My mom is crazy. Lots of hitting and criticism. No one knows but be and if my brother knows, he’s not talking. Hard to deal with because at the same time she has always cared and taken care of me. What to do with these feelings?

Yeah, I’m in. My mother is fucking crazy. She freaks out over everything then cries and blames it on EVERYONE else. Then stars screaming if you point out she’s being irrational as fuck. Or if you do anything for that matter. I hope to god I never have a female offspring because ALL the women in her side of the family are crazy as shit. She will go off on vacation, on a simple trip in the car, trying to decide what to eat, you name it… Bitch is CRAZY.

I had a crazy mother, too. I actually wrote a memoir about it (which proved to be damn therapeutic – at least for me that is:) and my hope is that my memoir “Hell Camp” can help others who suffered/suffer the same bizarre upbringing. My mother had extreme ups and downs, needed constant attention, manipulated everyone and everything, had every illness known to mankind and was constantly dissatisfied. There was a string of men, drama galore, plenty car crashes, suicide attempts, ridiculous spending sprees and eventually she kidnapped my child.
She completely overwhelmed me and, after years of being a mess, I finally entered therapy when I realized I couldn’t function anymore. It took me 7 years of therapy to learn to “let go” of all the anger and resentment I felt inside. Eventually I forgave my mother for all her craziness. I understand now that she operates from a very desperate and lonely place, and that she has the emotional maturity of a 5 year old – it has not been an easy journey, but I am truly thankful that I am free of her at last. For those of you still suffering, I send you much empathy and big, warm, cosmic hugs – If you do read “Hell Camp”, please let me know if it helps you in any way – thank you so much and stay strong…Niki Smart

so i found this because i figured finding out if i was the only one out there w a crazy bitch of a mother was worth a google. these stories are all too familiar. i’m going to be 30 next month and i still have ‘issues’ letting my mother know that her behavior is definitely NOT appropriate. my hub and i have 2 lil girls together and now they are witnessing the craziness. i write here, today, because i would like some advice on how to let her know that i will NOT stand for her exposing my children to what i was exposed to my entire life with her.

examples of craziness:
-being friendly and loving one minute THEN talking under her breath about how terrible you and your family is.
-offering to wash the dishes because i’m busy with the girls (we’re a homeschooling family) THEN letting me know that we’re such a filthy family that we don’t deserve to have children and that they will be taken away by her if this continues. i can assure you we are not filthy. our home may look ‘lived in’ at times, but you could pretty much eat off of our floors.
-offering to give us a ride somewhere when our car was out of commission just to remind me that my hub is a deadbeat that can’t afford to take care of us and i need to find an older man that will throw money at me and my kids. my hub busts his ass and i could care less if we fixed our car. we live in a very bike/pedestrian friendly area.
-taking us to chinatown (her idea) THEN commenting on how she can’t stand asians, or anyone of any other race for that matter. and singing everyone was kung fu fighting while walking up and down the aisles of their grocery store. downright RUDE! and this is how she acts NOW. i don’t have enough time nor space to tell you how she was in the past, but trust me, i will do everything in my power NOT be that kind of mother to my girls. so help me god. i do not want my girls to grow up thinking that her behavior is ‘normal’ or acceptable. i’m trying to raise kids that will change this world for the better. if that means they have no grandparents, so be it. i’m sorry that you all went through the same shiz as me and i’ll pray that we get past this garbage with love and light. peace.

My crazy mom is having medical issues. She called the other day and told me she has ovarian cancer and will find out if it is treatable. I spent the entire night mourning for her and asked my husband to stay home from work to be with me when she called. My daughter posted for people to pray for her with cancer on facebook. I specifically asked her if she was sure it was cancer. She said yes to me and my aunt and my husband. After no sleep, endless worry and tears, she called the next day and said she didn’t know if it was cancer or not yet. SHE HADN”T EVEN BEEN DIAGNOSED. This manipulatively done to cause my family pain. My sister, she told a completely different logical version that she is having an operation on her ovaries and will most likely recover from it. When I called my sister to speak to her about how angry I am with our mother, she laughed at me. Because she has never witnessed the manipulation.

My mother told me that I would have to take care of my father or find him a wife when she dies from this. VERY SICK LADY.

I have a blog about this that’s too painful too publish. My Mother has Narcissistic Personality Disorder that’s one step up from Narcissism and a 1/2 step down from Psychopathy. My Mother is a ‘master’ manipulator like a puppet master. She has single-handedly laid waste to a whole family, including my Father. The rest of the family somehow is in their way waiting for her approval, I came out since 2 years old ‘swinging’ at her. You can imagine what I went through challenging a creature such as this. A conversation with my Mother is like sitting in a swimming pool on a floating mat and as the cheerful conversation starts out the shark starts circling and even starting out talking about the weather ends up with you being verbally bitten in half about something she will create or revive. She took this family and beat it into hamburger meat, lit it on fire, poisoned what was left and put it in a blender, AND threw away all pictures of my Father and his 45 years of supporting her and his great love for her has been tossed in the garbage. There was a living will, and somehow she spent the majority of what the will comprised of on her physically deformed, pre-pubsecent boy loving b/f who claims my dead father’s house as his own. When she mentioned the will she said ‘Get your own f’n money, your adults’. I have kicked her butt verbally and she and I are like the clash of the Titans. Some say, ‘that’s your Mother, how could you?’ (and I only mentioned 1/100th of what she’s done and said). Thanks for reading.

After spending the past 24 hours unable to eat, sleep or think because my crazy bitch Mom is ruining my life, I took some comfort reading these posts. After treating me with disrespect and manipulating me my whole life, I finally found a way to remove my crazy mom from my life and start my own family, which is functional and happy. This REALLY pissed her off and now she finds ways to break the seal and pop back into my life so that she can leave a hot turd for me to deal with. What the fuck is wrong with these mothers? After becoming a parent myself, I just can’t imagine treating my own child this way.

I lived for years thinking I was the insane/bad one, am only just now realizing how insane my mother is. She’s a psychologist who failed to recognize I had all the symptoms of PTSD growing up, sexual abuse to be specific..she now won’t recognize these as symptoms of what they are in spite of the fact every single source I’ve ever consulted evinces said symptoms, all of which I have [documented by the shrink she dragged me to, who diagnosed me as autistic at eight–a diagnosis which anyone who spends more than five seconds with my chatty, extroverted self would recognize is bullshit!]..she insists I had a ‘psychotic break’ during a period of extreme depression brought on by finally recognizing all the physical pain I was in from the years of starvation, physical tortures as well as crippling psychological abuse I experienced at her hands growing up–continues to do so, in spite of the fact precisely zero of the ten or so mental health professionals I’ve since consulted agree with her [the one lady who did basically said that my mother said it didn’t happen, I said it did, I had no evidence, ergo it didn’t–which is malpractice, btw, if anyone ever tries to pull that crap on you go STRAIGHT to the Medical Board of wherever you’re at, do not pass go, do not collect $200]..she treats me like I’m half as important as my three-years-younger sister, who she consistently expresses shock and disbelief that I don’t take more interest in–in spite of the fact she raised a tyrant in the girl, not to mention that she expected me to help out with my baby sister the instant my sister was born, when I was LITERALLY three years old, and was “disappointed” that I wasn’t more interested in learning how to change a diaper etc. at that age-! She sees me as an extension of herself, there for her to beat up on or take advantage of in whatever way she can in exchange for her grudgingly providing me the bare minimum to stay alive..she has zero hopes for me ‘n disguises this with ‘I will support whatever you do’ psychological b.s. as well as continually pushing me in the direction of careers I continually tell her I’ve no interest in, either because she wants me to fail or because she thinks she can force me to force myself to become something I’m not in order to succeed in these careers..she is the reason I’ve spent years trying desperately to believe in my own worthiness, only to be brought down time and time again by my own isolation–mostly because I’m so terrified there’s some lingering mental illness in me that’s just waiting for its chance to take root that I’m afraid of letting anybody close to me. Plus I don’t know how to explain to people why they can’t ever meet her..my therapist thinks I was adopted since I look nothing like her or her husband, which I can only hope is true–accepting that, I finally feel a kind of peace. I just wish I had realized that sooner–I wouldn’t have accepted her idea that I had some obligation to her, I would have called CPS ‘n gotten myself the heck outta there sooner, or at least tried, or gotten emancipated.
As it is, I’m sad for all the time I lost but grateful I didn’t live my whole life feeling indebted to a woman who if anything completely let me down.
I’m sick of feeling my whole life revolves around her emotional instability.
Like most crazy people she’s incredibly talented at attracting an audience.

I’m mad at my mam as she is constantly a fat old twat that can’t stop having kids.But, hahaha! she tried to have child number 8 and my step-dad is a fat ues-less piece of shit that can’t even get an erection over the fat bitch that i am forced to call mother.

Ok, I might be wayyyy to late but like everyone I searched somewhere along those lines and found this. Currently, as in right as I’m typing this, she has been going off non-stop for an hour. I’m voice recording, because I’d never done or thought of it before just to see it as observation/fun and how long this last. I was literally sleeping when she asked something about a little thing so I said no and just snapped. What a shitty morning to wake up to. I haven’t been able to sleep soundly at night and eating well because I have to avoid her. After such a long time, well all my life, I’ve been trying to please her and I could go on and on but I’m finally realizing it’s not me. I grew up thinking there was something wrong with me, always fearful and always careful. I’m the only child and we’ve moved several times growing up. She pushed all the people around who I could talk to and I guess I’m finally up. I was very lonely throughout my childhood but I’m proud I hanged on. These confusing feelings: pity, frustration, sadness, anger, etc. all too familiar. I asked, what’s a kid in that kind of situation suppose to do? I had no bother, no sister, no cousins around, maybe a friend or two, and no dad growing up. I adapted and somehow manage to survive without breaking. It’s difficult right now because I’m in a transition point right and I just separated from the military which I joined because I wanted to move out so bad(good move). I’m ready to cut my ties with her as soon as I can. How do I do that without feeling bad? She was a good provider to say the least but I stopped feeling for her, if I ever did, a long long time ago.

I can relate to nearly every single person who has posted on here. Like mentioned by one other, I’m not saying anything because even as a 36 year old married adult… my mother is likely reading this. She is unbelievable kinda crazy.

I can relate to you completely Norm. My mother this morning asked me a question, didnt get the answer she wanted and threw a temper tantrum. i was half asleep and didnt know what was going on. I also am in transition period which is the only reason I am here. I get so confused between the feeling of pity and wanting to get as far away and never see her or speak to her again and cut ties forever. But then I feel guilty about it. I think its the only way though. Today was a final straw. I just dont know how to deal with her. She is very selfish, very emotionally unstable. Always crying, yelling. Complaining to everyone. Ruining my relationship with family bc she always wants pity from people so she makes up victim stories so they will baby her.. and usually I end up the villain part in the stories. Things that are so far from truth. I have to just let go of her whole side of the family i think. Her multiple doctors have her on several medications. mood stabalizers, anti depressents ect. I saw a letter from a doctor once saying something about mild scitzophrenia but I read that many people with that are calm. She is FAR from calm. Its like a ticking time bomb that can explode at any given moment for no reason. I cook her dinner every night. Clean, give her things.. all stuff to try to buy myself a day of peace by making her smile.. but thats about as long as it lasts. Then its ” your a horrible horrible child, I dont want you here, you treat me as a slave, you never do anything for me” and throws my presents on the floor. I dont know what else to do. I feel horrible about talking to my dad about it. He left her years ago and doesnt want to deal with it anymore. He zones out whenever i mention anything… but its such an in my face thing now its hard not to ever mention whats happening. Im 31 years old. Moving out of the country with my fiance who is not from this country so we have no other options. I feel so bad for him being in the middle of it. She only just met him and is screaming at him as well. She threw a book at my face today. I almost called the police because I was scared…. but seeing as this is her house.. I didnt think it was fair no matter how bad it gets. Im the one that should leave. However, when I do, I want soooooo bad to just remove her from my life, but I know I wont be able to because I will feel guilty and sorry for her. I dont know what to do! How do you deal with people like this? She honestly believes her lies and no matter how nice I am she still thinks im a monster and is incredibly manipulative and mean and just takes my things, uses me. Im scared to even leave any of my things in my room here…. last time I did that she sold some of it for money.

Haha, wow I’d love to join this club. My mom is constantly aggravating me, she comes in my room and yells at me to get onto my homework even though I’m on my way she is way too involved in my life she also loves to cuss at me and she will rant screaming I wish you were dead all the time threatening to kill me. She also abuses me physically, hitting me with space heaters, beating me with shoes, she likes to mess with my head a lot saying I said things that I never said. I’m not very good at explaining her as some of the people on here but I definitely have a crazy mother.